His Eyes
by the-rebel-in-twilight
Summary: Princess Isabella is trying to deal with the dramatic change in her life after her mother died. She wants peace of mind. Edward Mason wants revenge from his father's murderer: Charles Swan.
1. Chapter 1 Memories Of Emerald

**His Eyes**

Princess Isabella Swan stood in front of the wall sized mirror, gazing at herself. She was wearing a long white silk gown: tight at the upper portion, then swaying out downwards, more like a ballgown. Strings of diamonds and pearls decorated her maghony hair, which fell in curls past her waist.

She fingered a curl of her hair, biting her lip, thinking hard as cool evening air brushed past her.

A maid, in her early twenties, dressed in plaid grey skirt and tailored shirt, came in. a pair of silver heels in her hand.

"These are for you to wear, Princess. Lady Cope sent these." she said.

Isabella sighed as she turned to look at her servant.

"You did tell her that heels are not my preference in footwear, didn't you?" she inquired, irritated at her.

"I did, but she said that these heels were made specifically made for this dress…it won't be complete until you wear these".

Isabella rolled her eyes, sat on the ivory stool, and such her foot out. The maid bent on her knees, and helped her put them on. Once the heels were on, Isabella stood and tried to walk few steps. She was finding it quite difficult, given the height of those heels. But she managed to anyways.

When she turned back, the maid was gone.

"_In a while she'd return and accompany me to where my father and suitors are waiting. And then…the same traditions will be repeated...the feast, the music, the dance and then...My answer. I won't choose anyone of them._

_I want to marry for love, yet father wants me to choose the prince who'll gift me most lands, which will be passed to my father, helping him to bring most of Europe under his control."_

She smiled bitterly at the end of her thoughts. Her father had changed, since the death of her mother—Queen Renée. Isabella had been 12 at that time, sensible enough to understand what had caused her father's immediate with drawl of affections from her. He had lost the love of his life…and somehow had believed that Isabella was the cause of it. Isabella visibly shivered, remembering the night she had lost her mother…..

_Green…Green eyes…Sparkling like emeralds in the reflected moonlight…The face hidden beneath a mask._ _And the way warm and strong arms had gripped her, as if promising to never let her go. How she had hid her face in her captor's chest as she had cried silently, listening to the cries of her mother as those…..those monsters had taken her mother's life. She had fallen asleep crying, only to wake up and realize that she was alone now, her captor had long gone. She had stumbled through the forest, with the feeling of being followed. Though she wasn't sure if it was her imagination. She had run forward, listening to sound of horse troops as they suddenly came across her front. ..They were men from his father's army. She had fainted as soon as they had spotted her._

Isabella opened her eyes slowly, not wanting to remember the awful nightmares she'd had after her mother's death. Infact, she still had them now and then, being chased away by Green fire in a dark forest….she shook her head, as if wishing to get rid of these thoughts forever…..

A servant's voice made her turn around. She was supposed to attend the feast now. Isabella took a deep breath, and walked out of her room, through the long corridors and hallways. She stopped in the doorway that led to the feasting hall, her eyes cast downwards. She didn't wish to see all the men who were staring at her. She'd always been shy, not used to attentions of opposite sex, since her father rarely showed her any affection.

Prince Michael Newton stood up quickly, his breath caught as he gazed at the brown haired beauty who stood in the doorway, twisting her hands shyly. She was perfect, Michael thought. Her body was slender, with curves that emphasized her femininity. Her hair shone as the diamonds glittered in it.

He barely heard Charles' Introductory Speech. He just gazed at her, wondering that whether such an angel was fit to be wandering on Earth. Her beauty came from the heavens.

Isabella got uncomfortable with all the eyes on her. She raised her eyes in one direction, and they met ocean blue eyes. A man, probably in his early 20s, with blond hair and blue eyes was staring at her. He was tall and muscular, with pale skin and straight nose. The way he was looking at her made her uncomfortable. She looked down at the ground again, moving forward to sit behind her father.

The feast began as her father discussed many issues with his guests. Particularly the rebels who had caused great chaos among the areas where the rich ministers resided.

Isabella ate half heartedly, never looking up. As the music began, the ladies rose up, accompanied by their partners.

A hand was offered to her suddenly. She looked up in surprise. It was the same man, the one with the blue eyes.

"I am Prince Michael Newton, my Lady. Please honor me by accepting me as your partner for this dance". His voice was smooth and comforting, yet Isabella didn't feel calmed by it. Something was eerie about this man…

She looked around hopelessly, only to find that her father was looking at her sternly.

She accepted his hand. They waltzed around slowly, Isabella quite uncomfortable with dancing in her heels.

Michael made small talk and Isabella answered his inquiries about her—and her father. Isabella found it strange that he'd question her about _him_. If he was invited, he'd had to be in good relations with her father.

They parted a song later, with Isabella excusing herself to go to only came back after the dance had ended.

She walked back to her room,changed into her night robe and climbed into her bed…just then,a servant knocked at and entered her room.

"The King has sent you the message that he'll not be in the state the following week…yet, Prince Michael Newton will meet you tomorrow with his mother. His Highness also advised to not go deep into the forest in north,for there is quite a trouble there."

The servant left.

Isabella cried.-Her once loving father didn't want to even_ see _her before he left for another he expected to her see Michael Newton along with his family!without him being there!

After a while,she calmed down,rubbing the purple silk sheets of her bedspread under her eyes. She fell asleep after a few minutes,hoping to find some peace.

But little did she know that her fears would follow her her nightmare, she was chased by those emerald eyes and then woke up with a gasp, clutching her bedsheets against her chest.

It was then that she made the decision to go to the forest in the north—the place where her mother and she were chased by those murderers. The place where her mother had died.

_If I'm going to ever get rid of those nightmares, I'll have to—do it by myself. No one else will help me, because no one else loves me._ She thought, her stubborn side—the characteristic she'd inherited from her mother—now overpowered her.

She knew she had to go to _that _place again, the north of the great forest that stretched beyond her father's kingdom. If she did this then maybe... she'd find peace.

She laid back. Once she'd made the decision, she was calm again.

She slept soundly.

No jade eyes chased her in her dreams again.


	2. Chapter 2 Realizations

**Chapter 2 **

_**Realizations**_

_Disclaimer: SM owns twilight._

* * *

**The fire in the hearth burned brightly as Edward Mason cleaned his weapons,** checking twice the sharpness of the sword's blade before he put it aside. He concentrated on the armor he was supposed to wear, looking for any damaged area. When his expert fingers couldn't find one, he tested the grip by swinging it around by using his left hand, then, he put it back in its sheath and hung it on the wooden wall.

''Mason! The junior section is practicing sword fighting. You're needed, immediately!" Seth opened the cabin door to inform him.

Edward turned, and frowned, "What about Uley? Wasn't he supposed to be mentoring them?"

Seth smiled as if he knew a great secret. "Well, not really since, he has better things to do. You know the really important ones."

"Is he planning to fight the army? I thought we'd agreed that no action will be taken until _most _of us agreed to it?"

Seth shrugged, looking unconcerned. "Nobody really cares, do they? They all want to gain the glory, without having to share it."

Edward looked at the 16 year old youth and realized that he was speaking the truth. The "glory" involved gaining a prominent position in Carlisle's trusted. The main reason being the fact that most often, the people didn't have food to keep their families well fed. The King's policies against the rebels were strict. Even though they had managed to seize vast areas in the north of his kingdom, they were mostly semi arid. Trading with the citizens of Charles' country was impossible, except with those who lived in areas influenced and sometimes inspired by the resistance movement organized by the rebels, resistance against the unlawful expansion of Charles' kingdom. His hunger for power was too great.

"You need to go", Seth's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Edward looked up a nodded. He picked up his favorite sword and hung it on his sword belt... He then put on a long woolen coat.

As he made his way out of the wooden cottage, he saw some children: laughing carelessly, and chasing each other, throwing the snowballs in their hands at one another. He felt a twinge of regret. He'd never had the opportunity to enjoy his childhood. His grip on the sword tightened as he remembered the night he'd lost his father. Edward Mason Senior, beaten to pulp by Charles' men, and killed personally by Charles. The reason being the fact that he'd voiced his concerns over certain decisions made by the King, which were an absolute threat to the poor peasants.

Sometimes, Edward wondered if this was the only reason of his death. When Carlisle had brought him and his mother away from the Royal Court, he hadn't told him much. His major concern had been to make sure he got away from Charles' wrath. A 14 year old Edward hadn't been in a position to inquire him further. His mother, Elizabeth, had never talked about her husband again. Her only concern had been to bring up Edward safely away from Charles' clutches. She now lived in a small town, just near to the place which the rebels had claimed as theirs, after Edward decided to join them, although Carlisle didn't want him too.

Edward never understood Carlisle's reluctance to let him join, since he and Edward Mason Senior had been best friends. Carlisle was the best healer the Royal Court had ever had. Edward Senior had been the second in command of Charles' Army.

He stepped into the Training Field. It was a vast underground area, created by digging under the snow capped mountains. In case of emergency, it also served as a Hiding Place for children and women while the men fought.

After training the junior section, an exhausted Edward returned to the cottage, the one he shared with Jacob. It was one roomed, completely wooden, covered by layers of thick snow.

He put some water in the kettle, adding pieces of dry tea leaves. H hung it over the burning wooden logs and leaned back into his chair, thinking what Sam Uley might be discussing with Carlisle. He wondered if Jacob would be there. He hadn't run across him today.

He drifted to sleep after a few minutes.

"Mason! Wake up". Edward woke with a jolt. His hand quickly reached for his knife.

''Relax, man it's me"

Edward saw Jacob sitting in the bed next to him, his expression serious.

"What happened", Edward asked, "You went to the meeting today, didn't you?"

Jacob nodded, rubbing his face. He looked tired, Edward noticed.

"What did Uley say?"

Jacob reached over to take two cups from the shelf. He then filled them with tea and handed one to Edward. He sat on his bed, leaning his head against the wooden wall and shutting his eyes.

"Uley says we must take immediate action: prepare our best fighters to attack the King. He's passing our territory tomorrow night"

Edward cocked an eyebrow, "Just _passing_? I find that hard to believe".

"He still doesn't know where exactly we live. Neither does he know what we look like. But, Carlisle, he knows. Swan might be preparing a full fledge attack, we don't have any new leads." Jacob answered, eyes still shut tight.

Edward took a sip of his tea as he processed all this.' What about the spies? Weren't they supposed to be inside the palace?"

Jacob shrugged," I don't know about that. Maybe they're having trouble getting the information out".

"What's the matter with you, anyways?" he said, watching Jacob.

Jacob sighed and opened his eyes. "Uley wants to me fight. Carlisle doesn't. The rest of the commanders, they're even. Five say they want to avail this opportunity: make Swan pay for his mistake... Other five say we should wait, draw up a better plan."

"I agree with Carlisle. We should wait." Edward stood up, placing the cup on the shelf.

Jacob watched him closely, ''Why? Why do you want to wait, Mason?" He stood up too.

Edward smiled a little. The fire illuminated his face as his green eyes held deep sadness.

"Because," he looked at the sword in his hands, "sometimes, the more you wait for something, the better achieving it gets." He turned towards Jacob, a look of pure loathing on his face. "I want to make him suffer. The way he did to my parents."

* * *

Isabella walked in the Royal Garden, wrapped in shawl, stopping occasionally to examine a plant. Many of these she'd planted herself. She loved white roses. But Aster was her favorite as it was her birth flower. Her father had told her this. When she was 10, and on her wish, had brought her dozens of varieties of the flower like Monte Casino. .She'd been so happy then, and had planted them into the Garden, with her father and the gardener assisting her.

These small memories, no matter how trivial they now seemed to her father, were the most precious parts of her life.

"Bella! What are you doing standing there? You need to get ready, now!" Lady Cope hurried towards her, her face pink with the exercise of running a long way towards her. She was the only friend Bella had ever had, even though she was sometimes uncomfortable with her maternal behavior towards her. _Nobody can take place of my mother_, she often thought. She knew she was being irrational, but she didn't care.

"I was just checking whether my favorite plants were surviving winter." She answered her.

"There are much more important things to attend to. Lady and Prince Newton will be arriving shortly."

Isabella wanted to say that she couldn't care less but resisted and walked into the palace.

While walking through the hallways, she peeked into the library, wishing that Angela had dropped by. Then she could have an excuse to be late and hopefully shorten the length of time she had to spend with her guests.

No luck. She wasn't here today.

She sighed and walked to her dressing room. After getting dressed she was accompanied by Mrs. Cope to the dining room. She entered with a fake smile plastered on her face, on continued insistence of her companion.

Lady Newton was everything she had guessed her to be: talkative, curiousabout her father's expanding power and whether Isabella was getting nay share in it. But she was clever too, Isabella noticed. She had a way of making everyone tell her anything she wanted to. Isabella, however, answered politely but never said anything that might give away too much.

Prince Newton, _Michael _Newton, as she'd learnt now, opposite to her mother and herself. He observed them quietly, thinking that they got along very well. He was sure he would be able to court Isabella. She was just the kind of woman who would make a perfect wife.

Mrs. Cope entered after some time, attendants following her. They set up the food on the table, and left quietly and quickly.

"I hope everything is to your liking", Mrs. Cope said quietly.

Lady Newton's eyes swept over the table; taking notice of the varieties of dishes she'd been served. Then she smiled and told her that surely, everything would be just perfect.

Mrs. Cope thanked her and asked which kind of wine she'd like.

"White Wine, please." she replied.

She nodded and left the room.

They ate mostly in silence. Michael was staring at Isabella as she kept her eyes down and reluctantly ate, wishing that this night be over soon. Lady Newton appeared to be in deep thought. Then, she lifted her head and asked her about Mrs. Cope.

"She's my governess. She took care of me when I was young. She taught me to dance and play piano. She's still my good friend and guides me on every thing." Like choosing my dresses, for example, Isabella thought.

"Well, I can see that she has done a very fine job upbringing you but, obviously, she can't take place of your mother, can she?" Lady Newton said, making her voice kind and sympathetic.. "It must be hard, losing her, especially the way she was killed." Isabella remained quiet so she continued. "You don't remember anything. Do you?"

Isabella didn't believe for a second that she was asking these questions out of kindness of her heart. It was hard enough talking about her mother, and now she was talking to this nosy stranger who wanted to be her mother in law soon.

"No", she replied, her voice cold and flat. "I was only 12."

"Old enough", Lady Newton said, dropping the act.

Isabella felt angry. She opened her mouth to say something harsh when Michael Newton interrupted.

"Mother, I'm sure Princess feels pained recalling those events. Why don't we talk of something else?" He was desperate to make this work. She was everything he could ever need in the future,

Lady Newton put on the kind façade again. "Of course dear, I understand." She smiled sweetly at the brunette sitting beside her. "But there are rumors that she was involved, somehow."

Isabella was glad that the servers walked in at that point and put the wine glasses before them. She'd just been stopped from saying something very harsh. She was surprised at herself; she normally didn't act like this. 'The princess is very docile, shy and quiet', she'd often heard that about her. But they didn't understand a thing about her. This was her way of dealing with her fears and pains as she couldn't share with anyone else. Even Angela didn't know the truth.

She was distracted from her thoughts when the man sitting in front of her asked her politely if she would like to show them her garden.

Another invasion of privacy, she thought but agreed nevertheless. She had no other choice. They stood up and she led them to the back of the palace. Her garden was small, perfectly oval and beautifully planted, with a small fountain on one end. The grasses of different colors and species were smoothly rolled.

"A princess who likes gardening, an unusual but very interesting thing.", Michael spoke from behind her.

She turned and said, "Yes, Prince—"

"You can just call me Michael, you know, when we are addressing each other in private or among close company"

She nodded, swallowed and walked towards the other end of her garden where Lady Newton stood, observing the varieties of flowers she'd planted there.

"You chose these very wisely", she nodded towards them, "But surely you didn't do all of it yourself, did you?"

"I had some help from the gardener". She admitted.

"That's what I thought", she smirked.

Michael sat at the far end beside the fountain, admiring her soon to be wife. He wondered why she'd walked away from him so quickly. She should have enjoyed his company. After some time, he decided that she must be nervous. He smiled at that.

Isabella was glad when Lady Newton declared that she was tired and wanted to go to the guest rooms. Her son followed her, but not after telling Isabella good night.

* * *

The next morning was chilly. Winter was approaching and fog swirled outside Isabella's room, she couldn't even see anything outside her window. She remembered that last winter, many of her plants had died while a few had fared amazingly well. She wished at least a few would survive this time. She really loved gardening; it was her favorite hobby after reading.

She then went outside and asked for the gardener. He came quickly. She told him of her worries.

"Don't worry, child.", the old man smiled kindly, making his wrinkled face even more creased. "I'll start by removing the fallen leaves and other debris this evening. Your climbing roses and Aster will be fine."

Isabella thanked him and smiled. It felt like a huge weight has been lifted from her chest. She walked around the frozen garden and asked him casually, "If weather conditions are so bad here, what do you think it will be like in the north?"

"Well, child", he hesitated, "It will be freezing there, of course. Grounds will be covered by thick layers of snow. The areas are nearly arid there. People cannot cultivate, they're poor. They have nothing to eat. Cold and hunger, it must be hell on earth for them", he sounded sad.

Isabella knew this, of course. She'd heard a lot of rumors the last time she had went to meet Angela. She felt sorry for those people.

"My father is there, too, isn't he?" she asked quietly.

"From what I have heard, that is true. He is supposed to be meeting the King of the country that lies beyond the frozen mountains"

Isabella processed it for a minute, before the realization sunk in, "When you say 'meet', so you mean he wants to take over that country too?" she asked in a faint voice.

The old man looked at her sadly, "I am afraid that his intentions are the same as before"

Isabella shook her head. She couldn't believe this. His kingdom was already large enough, why did he always want more. She'd been watching this happen again and again. He was seizing lands, forcing innocent people out of their homes and forcing them to obey him. People had died before, and they would die again, by her father's hands. This had happened before, but every time, she was deeply affected by it.

She'd been wanting to visit the place where that… terrible incident had occurred that night,Thinking it would give her peace of mind. But she didn't see how it was possible now. She sat and cries, her head held in her hands.

She hated them, she hated those people who had killed her mother, who had destroyed her once happy life and turned her father her kind, loving father into a greedy person with no conscience.


End file.
